


You Are A Good Fellow

by combefemme



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefemme/pseuds/combefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a bystander gets shot in a botched robbery, Montparnasse just can't leave him for dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are A Good Fellow

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Les Miserables_ by Victor Hugo.

Montparnasse and Claquesous are knocking off an uppity little corner store by the university when some hotshot idiot in blue scrubs decides to play the hero. Claquesous plugs him once in the chest for his trouble before bolting out the door and into the night. Montparnasse is two steps behind him, his hand already on the door, that ridiculous bell chiming over his head when he hears it.

"Eponine."

Montparnasse freezes and turns back. He’s skidded across the linoleum and is on his knees at the guy’s side before he realizes it.

"What did you just say?!" he demands.

"Ep…" the guy whimpers, his eyes closed and tears running down his temples.

"Shit," Montparnasse swears under his breath and tugs his jacket off to press against the bleeding wound.

He whips his head up to look for the shopkeeper who’s sunk to the ground with a look of shock on his face. He’s about to yell at him to do something — fucking call an ambulance — when he hears the sound of distant sirens. Of course, someone must have heard the gunshot.

Montparnasse turns his attention back to the man below him.

"Hey," he says forcefully. "Open your goddamn eyes."

He complies, taking gasping breaths, hands scrabbling for purchase on the floor that’s slick with his own blood. Montparnasse waits until he meets his eyes before speaking again.

"You are not dying," he orders. "Do you understand me?"

Montparnasse isn’t sure if he does understands — isn’t sure if he’s capable of comprehension right now — but after a second he nods his head and something in his eyes changes. His fear turns to determination.

The sirens are louder now and Montparnasse can hear brakes screeching to a halt outside, the whole shop flashing in blues and reds. The paramedics rush in and Montparnasse is hauled back as they descend. The cops take one look at him, recognize him as one of the notorious Patron-Minette, and slap cuffs on him without a second thought.

He’s shoved into the backseat of a cruiser, soaked through with a stranger’s blood, and watches as the stretcher is loaded into the back of the ambulance.

XxXx

It’s a few days later and Montparnasse is awaiting trial when a guard bangs on the bars of his cell. 

"You’ve got a visitor."

Montparnasse follows him to the visitation room wondering who the hell would be coming to see him. Surely it’s not anyone from Patron-Minette. None of them would be caught dead voluntarily entering a prison. But if not them, then who?

His question is answered when they turn a corner and he catches a glimpse of a dark-haired woman sitting on the other side of the glass. Her eyes are red-rimmed, he notices when he sits down across from her.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"I wanted to thank you," Eponine replies. "That man, the other night, the one you saved…" she trails off and toys with the ring on her left hand.

He sighs. “How’s he doing?”

"He’s stable," she answers. "Not awake yet, but stable."

He nods. “Why’re you really here, ‘Ponine? Gonna ask me who shot him?”

She winces slightly at his words. “Was it you?”

"No," he shakes his head.

"Didn’t think so," she says. "I’m pretty sure I already know who it was anyway."

"Yeah, you probably do," he replies. They both know he won’t tell her if she does ask, though.

They’re both quiet for a moment before she suddenly asks, “Why’d you do it?”

He sighs. “I wasn’t going to. But I was halfway out the door and I heard him say your name.”

Her eyes widen. “He did?”

Montparnasse nods. “And then I remembered Azelma saying something about you getting hitched to some hotshot med student. And I just couldn’t leave him.”

 _I couldn’t do that to you,_ he doesn’t say.

"I wondered about that, too, y’know," Eponine says. "Whether or not you knew who he was. And part of me said that you must’ve. Why else would you have done what you did? But there was another part that said that if you’d known, it would’ve just been more reason for you to leave him."

Montparnasse feels that like a punch to the gut, but, given their history, he can’t really blame her for it.

"I’m a lot of things, ‘Ponine," he says, looking down. "And most of them aren’t all that great. But I’ve never wanted to be that guy."

"What guy?" she asks.

He meets her eyes. “The guy that breaks your heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for Les Mis. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](http://www.iamagogiamaghost.tumblr.com).


End file.
